The Misunderstanding, Or Draco's Not-So-Secret Admirer
by Rayniekinnz
Summary: 'Draco receives a strange box with Potter's next stock-up form...' One-sided Drarry.


**The Misunderstanding [Or Draco's Not-So-Secret Admirer] **

Draco sighed irritably as an owl flung itself through his window, dropping another letter onto his large well-organised desk before quickly hurling itself back out again. It was a particularly busy day at the Ministry, which meant everyone had forgotten this magical, _convenient_ contraption that allowed for much quicker and efficient communication – _your mouth_.

He had about thirty letters stacked in his 'In' box, with a little under twenty sitting ready to go in the 'Out' box. Crumpet [or Ares, as Draco had christened him to the public] had yet to arrive back from his last delivery, no doubt having been caught up in the rush of the departments. He almost felt bad for the owl. Almost.

Half an hour later Draco was ready to call it quits and sneak out, but he knew he would be toast if his idiot of a boss came through only to find he had taken the rest of the day off. He was good at his job – whatever it was he was supposed to be doing, anyway – but the man would fire him for breathing too loud if he could.

Glaring at his paperwork, he inked a new quill and got to work half-heartedly matching it with the forms at his elbow. He just had to finish the pile and then he could go down the street for lunch…and maybe get incapacitated on the way? No…not even hospitalisation would get him out of work if Manstrigh had his way.

He looked up as another owl flew in from the window, perking up and dropping his quill when he recognised the snowy creature. He saw the Ministry-stamped envelope she was carrying and his heart sunk, blushing a furious red, eyes snapping to the door to make sure no-one had witnessed his moment of weakness.

He took the envelope with a scowl, tossing it into the right box, but Hedwig didn't leave. His brow snapped up irritably and he was about to shoo her away when she hooted indignantly, pointedly dropping a small box onto his desktop before flying away in an obvious huff. He frowned, glancing after her. _Stupid owl._

Of course he had noticed the package she was clutching, but it didn't have his name on it, so he assumed it for someone else. _Why would Potter send me anything, anyway?_ Draco thought crossly, glaring at the box.

Five minutes later, he was still glaring at the box.

He was insanely curious – and more than a little jealous. The box was small, a little shorter than both of his hands together lengthwise, but made of a light, shiny wood with no visible tag. Hesitantly, he reached out to pick it up, turning it around in his hands and shaking it gently. Whatever was inside – _if_ there was anything inside – was extremely light, as there was only the slightest of sounds.

He shook out his wand from his sleeve and cast every mail-related charm he knew on it, not wanting to open it and get a pie in his face, or worse.

A long minute later, his wand was practically screaming that there was nothing suspicious about the box. He gave up trying to find faults and set it back on his desktop again, staring at it with a slight frown.

It had come with Hedwig, so it must have been from Potter…or at least have come from his office…right? But that didn't make sense. Why would Potter send him anything – not work-related, that is, and he was pretty sure there weren't any Potion requests in such a pretty container – and if it wasn't for him after all, why did his owl think it was?

"Well, might as well see what's inside," Draco muttered, picking the box up again before he could change his mind. If it was something of importance, he could always say he had opened it by mistake.

He found the latch and flicked it up, pulling away the top cautiously, still a little wary of something jumping out. Nothing did, however, and he pulled it off the whole way. What lay inside wasn't anything like he was expecting.

It looked like starlight.

He set the box down shakily, eyes wide as his fingers ran over the softest, _smoothest_ material he had ever had the privilege of handling. It was like powdered pearls, glimmering under the light. It could certainly be made of pearls, it was so expensive.

_Oh yes_, Draco knew exactly how much such a thing cost – he had considered forking out the Galleons himself, for a pre-order, but had eventually decided against it. No matter how beautiful it was, his parents would surely cut him off for spending so much money on a piece of clothing – and such a small piece of clothing too, barely even able to call itself a scarf.

So of course this bode the question: why had Potter bought it?

Draco knew, as disappointing a thought as it was, that the scarf was not for him after all. Not even his wildest fantasies had Potter buying him such a thing – mansions, exotic pets and shoes, yes – but the newest and most expensive of Malarie's Collection on the current market? He didn't think so. Even his father had blanched at the price when his mother _covertly_ placed the catalogue in his eggs one morning weeks before.

Weaselette was one lucky bitch.

Sighing long-sufferingly, Draco got out some scrap parchment and scribbled a quick note. He folded it and stuck it to the abandoned lid, feeling more miserable than he could ever remember.

Why couldn't any of _his_ stupid arses of boyfriends get him pretty things?! Merlin knew they could afford it [mostly], he was so picky about who he dated!

He eyed the scarf, then looked around his office quickly.

Well, there was nothing stopping him from trying it on…

* * *

><p>Harry rubbed his eyes wearily before fixing his glasses and standing, files under his arm as he made his way out of the meeting room. The Ministry had quieted down – it <em>was<em> nearly ten – so he took his time getting back to his office, grabbing a coffee on the way. He doubted he would be getting home anytime soon.

There were still a few Aurors at their desks when he walked through, all looking a bit like death. He nodded to them and quickly entered the sanctuary that was the Head Auror office, dropping the new cases onto his desk and hanging up his ruby work robes. Sitting down heavily in his chair, he took a long sip of his coffee. He was only twenty-nine, but he felt more like he was ninety-nine at that point.

It was as he was getting out some stationary to Owl Ginny about not making it home when he noticed something. Something important.

Where was Ginny's gift? He distinctively remembered putting it right next to—

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! _he panicked, flinging himself off his chair and running to grab his robes, nearly not noticing when a large Eagle-owl sailed in through his window. It dropped something with a clatter and left as quickly as it had arrived, cawing, before abruptly doubling back to snap up his half-eaten bagel from breakfast.

He watched, dumb-founded, before his eyes snapped to his desk and his heart just about stopped, giving one great leap. "Oh, thank god," he muttered breathlessly, staggering back to his chair, clutching his chest.

He caught sight of something on the side of the box and turned it around, eyebrows shooting upwards and gut twisting with unease when he saw it was a note. He pulled it free, checking it didn't mark up the box, before flattening it out with his hand, almost afraid to read the hasty, though elegantly penned sentence.

_You must really love her_, it read simply.

**Finis. **

* * *

><p><strong>This was written for Round One of the Ascend-The-Ladder Competition!<strong>

**Prompt**: 4) Receiving a package in the mail

Beta'd by **firefly81**!


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